Messiest Things
by madAmeSaysWhAt
Summary: Not even going to give you a summary, you'll have to find out while you read. But it's the cutest damn thing in the world, I will say that. At request by BeyondBelief01 and calleigh4ever, my foreign biffs!


He woke hazily from his pleasant dreams by a harsh shaking of his shoulder.

"Will? Will? Honey, can you wake up?" He opened his eyes, rubbing his face with his hands.

"Babe, what's wrong?" He looked up to Emma, looking down at him with a frantic gleam in her eye. He knew this look.

"I, ah… I, um, need to wash the sheets." Her face was flushed with embarrassment and her hands were clenched and shaking with nerves. He sat up and ran a hand up her arm.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" She made a strangled noise, somewhere between a cough and a gasping sob.

"Ye-Will, I need to wash the sheets." She bit her lip and he carefully leaned forward and kissed her cheek. He'd learned in his blissful eight months of living with Emma that it took baby steps for her to get better with her issues; she hadn't insisted washing the bedding after sex in over a month. Perhaps her anxiety from this had caught up to her.

"Okay. I'll go on the couch. I love you." She leapt to her feet as he stumbled, robotically pulling back the blankets and tearing them off the mattress.

He crashed onto the sofa, pulling a random blanket onto his chilly midsection, curling up and listening to Emma bustling around her (their) condo. The comforting hum of the washer soon began, followed by the soft rush of the shower. He smiled to himself. Of _course_ Emma had to take a three AM shower along with washing every piece of cloth she could get her hands on. After 20 minutes of listening to the stream of water, he dragged himself to his feet on the hope that she might need a little bit of assistance with her bathing, particularly in the hard to reach spots.

He stripped off all of his clothes and put them in their hamper next to the door. He crept into the small bathroom, eyeing her nude figure through the frosted glass with lust.

He slowly slid open the shower door and pushed himself up against her back, taking her breasts and twirling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He'd been able to distract her from messes with sex in the past; it seemed to be the best medicine. She sighed softly, and before she could protest, he squirted a tad of the nearby baby oil (in the shower for this very purpose, actually) onto his fingers and wormed them down in between her legs. He nibbled at her neck and stroked the silky skin he found there, waiting for one of the breathy moans he loved so much; what he didn't expect was a sharp shriek and his girlfriend twitching so madly that she fell smack on her bum onto the hard shower floor.

He blinked a few times, surprised and concerned.

"Emma, are you okay?" Her lip trembled, and to his shock, he saw a stream of blood trickling away from underneath her and down the drain. "Oh my god, you're bleeding???"

She buried her head in her hands and outright sobbed. He fell to his knees in front of her, reaching out a comforting hand. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry, let's go get a band-aid, okay? Then we can go back to sleep and everything will be fine." She shook her head rapidly.

"Look at your hand, Will." He cocked his head, then directed his gaze to his hands. The three fingers he had used to stroke her were… covered in dark red. His eyes widened as the lightbulb slowly clicked on. It suddenly made sense.

"Emma, honey… do you have your period?" The phrase sounded strange and alien on his male tongue, but he reminded himself who he was dealing with. Emma needed a helpful and understanding boyfriend right around now. Her lip wobbled again.

"Y-yes. And, oh gosh, Ihate it, Will, I just _hate_ it." She ducked her head, then choked at the sight of the blood, looking back into his eyes.

He gently helped her to her feet, pulling her close, melding his chest with hers. She shook in his arms despite the hot water beating on their backs, and he kissed her red hair gently, wanting her to be okay. She eventually relaxed into his embrace, and as she did, he reached for the pastel pink loofah on its' little hook, soaping it up and rubbing her slowly.

"Ahhh don't wanna worry my life away…" He sang the first song that came to his head to her, softly brushing his lips against her ear. He felt her lips peel into a smile against his chest at her favourite Jason Mraz tune, and in turn he began swaying her carefully in time to the song.

They danced in the shower for another fifteen minutes or so before she reached behind him and turned the shower knob off. He caught her eye and could tell that she was feeling a bit better. Her nervous smiles could tell him anything.

He toweled her off, carefully avoiding the place in between her porcelain thighs. She smiled at him as he did this, kissing her knees and belly and inner arm, comforting her as best he could.

He carried her bridal style to their bedroom again, seeing that she had put fresh sheets on the bed, the soiled ones tossing about in the washer still, pillow shams and all. She found herself some clothes and he slipped back to the bathroom, opening the secret cupboard under the sink that all women seemed to have.

He returned proudly with one of each of the absorbent materials he had found, holding them all out to her. She laughed.

"Thank you, sweetheart." He turned away as he applied them as intended, dressing himself. When they were both done he caught her up again, dropping her neatly under the covers in the middle of the bed. She sighed and snuggled up against his bare chest once more.

"Are you okay now?" She smiled at his concerned look.

"I think so. Gosh, thank you so, so much, Will. I hate having to suffer through… this in the first place… it's a lot better with a boyfriend that doesn't laugh." He stroked her hair gently.

"I would never laugh at you. I love you." She kissed his chest, closing her eyes.

"And that's why I love you."


End file.
